Shadow of Hurt
by dolphinsbunny
Summary: Stiles is destroyed when he is told he isn't pack. He finds numbness is only a shadow of hurt.


"You're not pack"

It was that one sentence that made Stiles stay up at night, the one sentence that destroyed him. It truly was a joke on him, he thought he was pack. He thought he was a part of a loving family. He thought he meant something to them, had special bonds with them. He didn't expect it, but who really expects to have your life, your comfort, ripped away by the very people you love.

That one sentence was the cause of this:

I stumbled to my Jeep, my heart aching, pain radiating throughout my body. It felt as if something was ripped out of my chest, and the wound just kept bleeding. My vision went black before fading back to colour, I felt woozy, panicked. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

Collapsing in the driver seat, I fumbled with my car keys before jamming them in the slot. Tears were streaming down my face, as I wiped them away frantically, but I couldn't stop the next wave. I hastily reversed and pulled down the dirt driveway. Rocking back and forth in my seat, I slammed my head on the steering wheel repeatedly.

Driving 5 km away, I stopped, I was far enough. Turning the car off, I sobbed, all my agony just seeping into the cries. I curled into myself, pain bursting in my chest before settling into the deep heart wrenching feeling of darkness in the bottom of my stomach. I don't know how I long I stayed like that, maybe hours. The distress and misery burned the back of my head, as I became numb. Numb is good. Numb is only a shadow of the hurt, muffling the despair I felt into one of blankness. Numb was what I could do.

On autopilot I turned the jeep back on and drove home. It was dark, cold, and void of people on the streets. Dad shouldn't be home yet, he had night shifts for the last few months and I haven't seen him in a while. I was tired, done, and exhausted. I didn't turn on any lights, just slumped into my bed. I stared at the ceiling while listening to the lingering hush of the air conditioner till I saw sun shining in from my window. I turned my head staring blankly at my alarm clock that showed 6:00am, I faintly heard the front door open. Dad's shift must be over, usually starting my routine for school.

I guess I must be more annoying than I thought if he strategically changes his shifts as if to not have to associate with me. I chuckle bitterly and sluggishly walked to the bathroom. I ran a hand through my hair, gazing at my appearance. Dark smudges of shadows ran under my eyes, red streaks of puffy skins showed evidence of my crying. My hands started shaking, a sign of a panic attack coming. I fumbled in the cabinet for my Adderall, doubling my normal dosage. I shallow dryly, shifting towards the shower.

Jamming on the cold, I undressed and went under the frigid water. Shivering I put my hands on the wall, leaning for support. Cold helped with the numb, encase the mind, keeps in contained unlike hotness which overruns and over stimulants and over cases a destructive mind. Rubbing my eyes, I hurried up not wanting to be late for school. Which was just an excuse to not think about what had happen the night before, since school didn't start for a good hour or two.

Exiting the bathroom, I turned on the light in my room and found a random hoodie and jeans. Tugging them on, I grabbed my bag and slung it on my shoulder. I brushed my teeth quickly and wrote a note for Dad saying "Will be late tonight, heading down to lake. Lunch in fridge. Love you".

I planned to go down to the lake where I spent a lot of my time when my mother died. The lake was always tranquil and untouched. It is pack night tonight and I don't want to be home alone swimming in sorrow, I'd rather be swimming in real water. I wasn't hungry, but I made myself and Dad a lunch, since I wouldn't be here later and I didn't plan on stopping back around after school.

It was only 7:15, and I was starting to feel the ache twice as painful now. Wasn't time supposed to heal? It had only made the torment worsen. I can only see their faces flash in my mind, the pity in their eyes when it was apparent I thought I was one of them. The cold glint of mockery in their eyes of them as they joked around at the expense of me.

I blinked and swallowed, grabbing my car keys and heading to the only Starbucks in town. I didn't even care about the reaction I was bond to have later in the day from the caffeine, after all I did spend the night wide awake. I had to distract myself, I couldn't just sit still waiting for school when I would be force to pretend the last couple years of friendship was just a dream that was doomed to be forgotten the moment you wake up.

It was busy, as you would expect a Starbucks to be, so I got in line and waited. I was thankful they weren't here, even though I know I will have to see them today. That I would have to shift my eyes to avoid their desks, or their chatter. Before I knew it I was the next in line.

"Hi, what can I get you?" A brunette asked me, too sweetly for a morning like this.

"Umm, can I get a Tall Americano with an extra shot?"

"Of course, that will be a total of 2.50$" She tapped on her computer, and got the drink ready.

I paid and took the expresso, walking towards the doors. A familiar laugh caused me to look up, my breath hitched, nerves skyrocketing as I took in the two pack members. Allison stopped laughing as she saw me, a deep frown formed on her face. I bet she was hoping not to run into me expect for the inevitable school related stuff. I bet she was disgusted by sight of me.

Lydia was staring at me almost cautiously, narrowing her eyes and glancing me over. Eventually after a few seconds she stops and gives me a small smile. I look away immediately, it was like she was taunting me, I just couldn't. I couldn't. I walked to the side and quickly passed them, exiting the store.

I started breathing heavily, invisible walls closing in on me. I forced myself to walk one foot at a time to my Jeep. Each step I took a breath in and out. I stopped with my hand on the door handle, close my eyes and focus on calming down. My heart sung with loneness and unfathomable longing. I just wanted to be ok again. I want to be wanted and accepted as me. But how can I be accepted when I'm merely me.

I took a sip of my coffee, and hopped into the Jeep. The burst of caffeine felt amazing as it warmed up my body from the inside. It was nice to feel warm, it almost made the pain hurt less. A shell of pleasure.

I felt the coffee work its magic as my body got more awake, not that it was ever asleep. I pulled out of the parking lot, driving towards the building that will probably be my new personal hell.

I couldn't not notice Jackson's Porsche or the pack surrounding it. It caused more anguish to be this close to them, but still be as far away as ever. I took several gulps of the coffee, trying to ease the pain, knowing that it is pitiful wishing, coffee will do nothing for me now that I see what I can't be a part of.

I sat there for as long as I could, willing the moments to become hours with no such luck. The bell rang, people started filing into the doors. I headed out of the Jeep towards the building, crumbling up the empty paper cup and throwing it in the nearest garbage can. Keeping a close, but subtle eye on the pack, making sure they would not come in contact with me. Not that they would want that anyways.

The halls were scattered with people, but a clear defined path was in the center. I walked over to my locker, spinning in the code 39-40-73 on the lock. I swiftly grabbed my books, shoving them in my bag.

In my first class I only had one pack member in it, luckily we do not sit together. That would just be more painful and almost humiliating. I felt nauseous, pressure built in my chest, my footsteps grew heavier as I lost focus. I squeezed my eyes shut, slowly coming back as I registered the hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Danny looking concerned.

"You alright, you look like shit." He frowns, scanning me over.

I shrug it off saying, "Ya, just a rough night, couldn't sleep." Which was definitely an understatement. Danny didn't look convinced, but nodded as he took a seat next to my spot.

I slumped in my chair, with my head in my hands. I could feel a headache coming on, rubbing at the tension area. The sound of clicking heels filled the room, Erica, the badass blonde. I miss her already, I miss all of them. Even if she didn't care, I do. I'm now empty, at least before I could care for them. Even though they didn't appreciate the things I did, I did it to make them happy. The one thing I could contribute, one thing I thought was recognizable.

I cleaned, a lot. Werewolves made a lot of messes, so I mostly did it so they could relax. I mean they fought hard with the supernatural, and they didn't have to come home to a dirty house. Laundry was something I started doing when I noticed the piles by the washer, it became a regular thing. Cooking came naturally as well, when we were cuddled up watching a movie and nobody wanted pizza for the fifth time that week, I volunteered to make homemade macaroni and cheese. Since everyone enjoyed it, and it was healthier to cook then order pizza, I started cooking almost every night.

I liked making sure the pack had everything they needed, it made me have a purpose. Now I realize that I was basically a maid, no thanks you's from anyone. That doesn't matter now I guess. They'll figure it out, I do worry though, just because I meant nothing doesn't mean they did.

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